


The Wolf Pack

by Elira



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Love, Other, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 22:31:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3706359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elira/pseuds/Elira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I still recall your words; I still recall our memories as if they occurred only yesterday. They are engraved in the very fabric of my heart and of my memory. I wonder, Solas, do you remember them as well?</p>
<p>A collection of oneshots and drabbles featuring my female Lavellan and her wolf pack. Some tags may not apply until later chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wolf Pack

**Author's Note:**

> More or less, this is just me pouring headcanons from Dragon Age: Inquisition into readable form. I can't promise regular updating because of my unpredictable schedule and, to be honest, lack-of inspiration infliction. I will do my best to still update, though. Also, some tags won't apply until later chapters. This isn't solely Lavellan X Solas. The romance is a prominent aspect, but the rest of main cast will have regular appearances and important purposes and roles as well. I like to think the theme of this will be more love, rather than solely romance. But we'll just see, shan't we? I've rambled long enough.

                                                                                                                          Tender Solace

 

 

His shield contacting her staff caused it to splinter in her hands, sent pinpricks of pain to colonize along her nerves, and threw her body backwards and away from the combat's fray before she could recover. There was a cry of alarm, unmistakably Cassandra's, before her back connected with a solid _something_ \- a tree, she thought at a sluggish guess. The impact was abrupt and painful. Breath stolen, her lungs protested with a ferocity, harmonized by newborn bruising and her body's brutal aching as she slid inelegantly to the forest floor. Her vision was a blur, colors and stars dancing as she strived to hone in on something, anything specific she could make out. She felt more than heard herself moan.

"Lavellan!" A second cry greeted her ears, unwelcome, unbidden, and its source unable to be pinpointed. Sound hurt. Nay, everything hurt. Relief was a treat held cruelly out of arm's breadth. She couldn't even breathe, let alone give form to anything coherent. The sensation of falling over and on her side, along with something warm, sticky, and wet trickling down the front of her face, were barely perceivable.  _Blood_ , she thought numbly, her mind wading towards darkness and its alluring promises of relief.

Fingers pressed gently against her temple. Had her body not been as limp as a well nigh demise, she would have jumped in surprise. How long had she lied here?

"Solas, is she...?" Cassandra's voice was a tide against the shore of her fuzzy thoughts, but her accent was recognizeable. There was a lacing of fear in her words, which struck Lavellan as odd. What did Seeker Pentaghast have to fear? Her mind sighed at her, and then her thoughts sang in with, _Your death, probably, genius. No you means no Mark; no Mark means death and destruction for all._ Oh. Right.

"Of course not," Solas responded in vigorous reassurance, his warm breath gliding against her face. Goosebumps rose along her skin, whether from simply the warmth or from something else was to be determined at a later date. Nonetheless, it awoke her senses in a rush. He continued, unbothered by their closeness, in his usual smooth method of speaking, "A concussion, I suspect, and perhaps other injuries, but no worry of death."

"That was some impact," dribbled in Varric, his good humor unable to mask the traces of worry. Her senses were returning, but at a crawl, and she could only just make out the sound of him slinging Bianca back over his shoulders. "That warrior came out of nowhere, then the the next thing I know, the little lady Herald is flying backwards." He forced a chuckle. "I guess elves really are that light."

Cassandra made a disgusted noise.

"Laughing is a bad idea right now for me, Varric," Lavellan mumbled, rasping. Speaking should not require this much effort. Cracking her eyes open wasn't terribly enjoyable, either.

"Do not get up," ordered Solas firmly, serious and resolute in delivery, as she made an attempt at movement.

She obeyed and relaxed on her side, shutting her eyes again. The glare was too much for her pounding skull, but the coolness from the earth felt nice and made an effort at taking the edge off. She worried that sitting up might also relieve her of the contents in her stomach, which would be catastrophic to what little dignity she owned. She did well enough at embarrassing herself on her own without aid of vomit-spewing. With that in mind, she gladly heeded Solas' command.

"Can you heal her, Solas?" Cassandra inquired.

"Well enough, I suspect. However, I will require time. It would be wise for you and Master Tethras to keep watch for more bandits."

"Of course." Lavellan heard her rise, then immediately begin moving away. "Varric, let us check the perimeter."

"Must you take everything so seriously?" Varric grumbled, but the sound of his steps following after her own was indication of his obedience, albeit begrudgingly. Lavellan couldn't hear the remainder of their exchange, but that was of small consequence. It took little effort on her part to imagine the rest.

"You haven't adjusted to combat yet, it seems." Solas' voice was as glaring against her thoughts as the sunlight had been against her face. His voice, however, was far more welcome, even if he was forcing her to acknowledge her shortcomings outside of the comfort of her own mind.

"I haven't," she agreed in no louder than a whisper. As she spoke, his fingers once more pressed against her temple, only this time a cool drizzle spread throughout her skull at the contact. Healing magic, undoubtedly. "There's, uh, a big difference between learning magic and actually using magic in a battle," she finished. The drizzle had the same contrast as cool rain on a summer's day. It was bold and unable to be ignored. Not comfortable, per se, but soothing. It was good sensation, one that indicated healing and relief once its duty ceased.

"That is true. It seems to me, however, that you are hesitating. You did so at the Temple of Sacred Ashes as well."

"I know." _And I almost got people killed with it, right?_ But she didn't say that aloud.

He said nothing else on the matter. He didn't need to, for she read between the lines well enough. He was merely kind enough not to emphasize the fact that she was blatantly awful at fighting. Indeed, she knew it, and he knew it, but she was grateful for his polite silence. She vowed to herself to solidify her determination to learn, and to pour more effort into her practice, but she was aware that overcoming these obstacles was going to take a lot from her. She was struggling with a few bandits in the Hinterlands. What would happen when she came across a rift that released a Pride demon, like the one back at the temple? She would be slaughtered, and get her companions killed along with her. Worse still, Thedas would likely follow suit. Would she ever be capable of facing such overwhelming power? She shuddered at the thought. So much, too much was riding on her success; a success she was unsure she could achieve. In fact, she doubted she could. Failure was so dreaded that she could hardly consider it without risk of a panic attack, but the doubt was there; watching, waiting, and giving life to every fear and destructive outcome imaginable. She was the last person that should be in this position. She was going to cause the end of the world, wasn't she?

Her thoughts were silenced by Solas, only this time not with words. With his remaining hand, he took his bag off his back, set it down, and rifled through it. She didn't see but felt it as he searched and procured something sought. Then, without forewarning, he suddenly removed his fingers, fluidly slid his hands under the back of her head, lifted, and laid it gently on his thigh. Her breath caught in gasp.

His body shook in a quiet chuckle. "Did I startle you?" He sounded amused. Was he teasing her? She hesitated in embarrassment, a dusting of a blush warming her cheeks.

Not awaiting her answer, he retrieved what he had procured - a simple white cloth, she saw, as it came into view. With it he began to dab the blood from her face and scalp. The gentleness in which he applied pressure left a considerable impression, enough to entice tears, when thrown together with her present emotional vulnerability and exhaustion, although she cursed them with every fiber of her being. They were irrational, she knew, but not unusual all things considered. Between her injuries and the onslaught of doubt and emotion, it was too much.

"Doubt is natural, but letting it consume you is detrimental to yourself and those around you," he said after allowing her tears to fall in silence for some time. His dabs had now become strokes, more for therapeutic than cleaning purposes, she suspected. "Do not forget you do not face this alone. You have Cassandra and Varric, Cullen, the spymaster, and Lady Montilyet, not to mention myself. The task before you so no small one, but draw solace from companionship. You are not alone, _lethallan_."

Solas, sweet and precious Solas, held her quietly while she cried.

 

____

 

Journal Entry 1.

_You read right into my expression and saw my doubt. You could have left well alone, but instead you took time to comfort and encourage me. Thank you._

_'You are not alone, lethallan'. I still recall your words; I still recall our memories as if they occurred only yesterday. They are engraved in the very fabric of my heart and of my memory. I wonder, Solas, do you remember them as well? I realized I had many questions for you only after you left us. How I regret not asking you them when I had the chance, but there is little I can do about it now._

_Our memories have become increasingly precious to me, you know. They clog my mind and steal my thoughts without care, often unwanted. I toyed with the prospect of choosing to endeavor forgetfulness, but I realize that's not an option for me. I think forgetting you would hurt as much, if not more so, than your ending the relationship and disappearance. Knowing it was as real for you as it is for me; that you love me, perhaps still do, takes the edge off, but it cannot heal it. No, I'm not sure there is much that can heal this heartbreak other than learning to live with it. With pain, you make a space for it, you learn how to carry it and live with it, but there is no guarantee it will ever entirely leave you. I don't think I want it to. The pain serves as proof of what we had. It i as precious to me as our happiness was. Still is._

_Creators and Maker willing, you are safe. Please, Solas. Be safe. You must be safe._


End file.
